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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25950922">Hot cocoa</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple'>ToxicPineapple</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(It's implied extremely briefly just in a throwaway line), Akamatsu Kaede's Hatred of Humanity, Bittersweet, Character Study, Conversations, Domestic, Gen, God she really just, Hates people huh, Lesbian Akamatsu Kaede, My pregame personalities ain't that edgy kinky shit y'all do, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Game Akamatsu Kaede, Pre-Game Momota Kaito, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Sort of I mean it's like, Suicidal Ideation, Trans Akamatsu Kaede, Trans Momota Kaito, Unreliable Narrator, a study of pregame kaito, and of kaede if you squint!, death mentions, friendships, just warning you now, murder mentions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:35:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25950922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as the thought crosses Akamatsu’s mind, she hears Momota’s key in the door, and the locks clicking as he turns them. She huffs out a soft, fucking finally, listening to the door creak open and bump against the wall. Akamatsu closes her eyes. He’s always so rough with it. She had the spot of mind to put a couple socks over the doorknob so that they don’t get charged for property damages, but it doesn’t seem like Momota really noticed her efforts. For someone who’s so obsessed with making money, he sure is careless.</p>
<p>“Yo, ‘Matsu,” Momota’s tenor rings through the apartment, bright and chipper. Akamatsu lets out a little groan, even if her lips quirk up instinctively. It’s not fondness, she’s not fond of the idiot, she’s just… he’s familiar, that’s all, and he was out for a while and the dumbass gets sick easily, and it’s cold. That’s all. Like Akamatsu could ever actually grow attached to the moron. “I got the milk.”</p>
<p>“Great,” Akamatsu huffs out.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>On a cold day, Momota makes them some hot cocoa, and Akamatsu ponders their future.</p>
<p>(Or the lack thereof, rather.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akamatsu Kaede &amp; Momota Kaito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hot cocoa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CONTENT WARNING: Akamatsu is actively suicidal. I really don't know any more of a delicate way to put this. She is explicitly planning to die in three years. If you experience suicidal ideation as it is featured in this piece, please talk to a licensed professional, or a trusted adult/supportive figure in your life. Things will get better, but that doesn't mean you can't accept help while they're terrible.</p>
<p>http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akamatsu releases a breath. It’s cold today, the kind of cold that shocks you right down to the bone, and their apartment is so poorly insulated, she can practically see her breath floating up from every huffy exhalation she releases. Momota’s blanket is old and worn out and cheap; he can spend his money when it matters, of course, but when it comes to blankets or jackets he barely thinks twice before grabbing the lousiest item on the shelf. Fucking dumbass has no temperature sensitivity. It was nice of him to give Akamatsu his blanket, though. If not for his weird obsession with striking some kind of jackpot, Akamatsu would almost say he’s actually a good person.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if those actually exist, outside of Harukawa from the student council, and maybe Hoshi, too, who volunteers in the counseling office during his lunch hour. But people who are so overtly upstanding are rotten, too, if you care enough to stick around. Just rotten right down to their very core. Akamatsu has met enough upstanding people to know that much.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She burrows deeper into the mound of blankets Momota tucked around her before he went to talk to their landlord. God knows when he’ll be back, he’s so easily distracted, and the longer he’s gone the longer Akamatsu has to wait for cocoa. She could just make it herself, but they’re out of milk, and the consistency of hot cocoa made with water just isn’t the same. He’s supposed to be picking some up, and regardless of whether he gets the brand Akamatsu likes or some cheap shitty thing that he saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>on sale, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akamatsu is going to drink it, because she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold, </span>
  </em>
  <span>damnit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Birthday month or not, February fucking sucks. Akamatsu hates being cold. She pulls the blanket over her head, shivering, rubbing her arms up and down to attempt to coax away the goosebumps that have been rising. Momota’s really been out for a while, huh. Maybe Akamatsu should text him? But the phone plan that she and Momota can afford for both of their phones is so shitty, they only have a limited number of message they can send per month. Does Akamatsu really want to waste one of them on something like this? She can endure the cold a little bit longer. Momota is a moron who gets himself into trouble. They’ll need the texting capabilities in case of an emergency. It’ll be fine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just as the thought crosses Akamatsu’s mind, she hears Momota’s key in the door, and the locks clicking as he turns them. She huffs out a soft, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking finally, </span>
  </em>
  <span>listening to the door creak open and bump against the wall. Akamatsu closes her eyes. He’s always so rough with it. She had the spot of mind to put a couple socks over the doorknob so that they don’t get charged for property damages, but it doesn’t seem like Momota really noticed her efforts. For someone who’s so obsessed with making money, he sure is careless.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yo, ‘Matsu,” Momota’s tenor rings through the apartment, bright and chipper. Akamatsu lets out a little groan, even if her lips quirk up instinctively. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>fondness, she’s not fond of the idiot, she’s just… he’s familiar, that’s all, and he was out for a while and the dumbass gets sick easily, and it’s cold. That’s all. Like Akamatsu could ever actually grow attached to the moron. “I got the milk.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” Akamatsu huffs out, and when she hears his padded footsteps coming on down the hall (they don’t bother with indoor shoes, Akamatsu thinks those traditions are stupid when the floor is already so gross; it’s just that Momota can’t tie his shoelaces so he wears slippers everywhere) she begrudgingly sticks her head up from the blankets, peering around and over at Momota. The guy is holding a large jug of Akamatsu’s preferred brand in his hand, grinning wide. He’s also remarkably underdressed considering the weather, but you can’t have everything. Akamatsu will just have to dip on school sometime next week to take care of him. It’ll mean more rumours that they’re fucking, but Akamatsu can either put up with those, or tell everyone she’s a lesbian, and well. High school, y’know?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>God, she’s so ready to turn eighteen and get the hell out of this place.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You got the brand I liked,” Akamatsu says, decidedly not addressing Momota’s ill-suited fashion choices. She doesn’t have any problems being short with him-- Momota knows how she feels, behind the whole peppy facade she puts up at school, so it doesn’t matter-- but there’s a part of Akamatsu today (a stupid part) that sort of doesn’t want to say anything harsh. Ugh. “Find some coupon in the trash?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re close,” Momota chuckles, and ruffles Akamatsu’s hair, which she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but despite coming in from the cold his hand is warm, so she grumbles a little and allows it, “nah, it was on sale. I’ll go back and get a couple more some other time, but I figured you were probably freezing to death over here so I rushed back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic,” Akamatsu wrinkles her nose, tucking the lower part of her face back down into Momota’s blanket (it smells like his cologne) and watching him make his way back into the kitchen. “I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>freezing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to death. As shitty as the insulation is here, I think they’d get sued or something by people richer than me or you if tenants actually froze to death.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What kinda rich person would live here? Aside from me, ‘f course,” and Momota grins, his lilac eyes peering at Akamatsu over the divider between the kitchen and the living room. “Since I’m a future rich guy and all.” Akamatsu scoffs. “But man, you always gotta kill my, uh, what’s the word,” Momota gestures with a tablespoon, effectively getting cocoa powder all over the fridge. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, and Akamatsu is too genuinely apathetic to remark. “Hyperbole.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t know that one was in your vocabulary.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Momota lets out a proud bark of a laugh at that. “Ouma taught me! Sort of. When he was roasting the shit out of me after I pried away some bullies the other day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Akamatsu doesn’t doubt that Ouma was </span>
  <em>
    <span>roasting the shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of Momota (frankly, it seems like something Ouma would do; he’s the feisty type, especially to Momota, which is weird because he’s one of the three people at their school aside from Akamatsu-- the other two being, naturally, Harukawa and Hoshi-- who actually care about the shit he goes through) but she’s pretty sure that thing about Ouma teaching Momota the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>hyperbole </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a lie. Momota is shockingly book-smart, when he cares enough to pay attention. You just don’t get fluent enough to speak casually in three languages without having a certain degree of intelligence. He’s just so stupid in other ways, it’s easy to slap him with the himbo label and move on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not really fair to him. Especially because Momota is just as selfish as everyone else on this rotten planet, when it comes down to it. He’d do anything to make a quick buck. Maybe even murder, if he wasn’t so squeamish. One time he and Akamatsu were walking back here from class and they saw a dead racoon on the sidewalk. Momota made them go five blocks out of their way to avoid it. If he could kill without consequences, and without having to deal with the blood… Akamatsu is pretty sure he would.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But who wouldn’t? Kill, that is. If Akamatsu herself didn’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>die </span>
  </em>
  <span>so bad…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Matsu, you’re totally spaced over there,” Momota points out. His head is tilted to the side. He looks like a confused puppy, waiting for instruction. Akamatsu scrunches up her face, turning her head away and reaching up to rest a hand on her forehead. Ugh. He knows her too well for her to go around spacing out like that in places where he can see it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just thinking,” Akamatsu admits, leaning her head back against the couch cushion, gazing half-lidded at the ceiling. Her gaze rolls over to Momota after a while, and she raises her eyebrows. He raises his own right back. “Would you ever kill anyone, ‘Mota?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Momota snorts. “Me? Know who you’re talking to?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Scoffing, Akamatsu pushes herself up on the couch, looking more firmly over at him. “I mean it, would you kill someone? Like if there was a lot of money in it for you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re serious,” Momota says, as if that wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvious, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as if Akamatsu isn’t always serious, except when she’s being sarcastic, and she’s rarely sarcastic with Momota. Not when they’re alone. “Well, I mean,” Momota lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck, pulling a nervous expression. “What kinda lot of money in it for me are we talkin’, here? Like, a paid assassin kinda deal? Or a winning </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of deal? Because you know my stance on the latter.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...Akamatsu does. It’s her own stance, too. Soon as the both of them are eighteen, soon as it’s legal, they’re both signing up for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s a good thing Momota is a year older than her, because being in the same game together… would be hard. Even if Momota plans to win, and Akamatsu plans to die. Maybe even especially because of that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Regardless of the memory wiping, Akamatsu doesn’t know if Momota could kill her, even if he wasn’t doing it directly, even if it was just by winning a class trial. He’s selfish, and flawed, just as all humans are, but at the end of the day, Momota is also…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re gonna win by killing, right?” Akamatsu doesn’t know why she’s asking this. It’s not like they’ve ever talked about it before, but also, Momota’s been… pretty clear, on what his intentions are, as far as joining </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa </span>
  </em>
  <span>goes. Besides, there are only three reasons why someone would join </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For the money. For the chance to kill.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...For the chance to die.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not by becoming one of the survivors,” Akamatsu clarifies, arbitrarily. Momota moves around a bit in the kitchen; she can hear him setting down a pot, likely with the hot chocolate in it. It doesn’t take long to cook, especially not under Momota’s talented hands. She gets a little more cozy in her spot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Momota shrugs. There’s a moment of quiet; the sound of pouring liquid. “That’s the idea, anyway. Dunno if I have the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cojones </span>
  </em>
  <span>required to survive a killing game.” He chuckles. “But I’m pretty reckless, and I think </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa </span>
  </em>
  <span>culprits need a certain amount of that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you win during the trial?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d just have to make a compelling enough case for myself to the script writer,” Momota says, and Akamatsu listens to the sound of his slippers padding on the floor as he walks into the living room. She disentangles her hands from the blankets to reach up for the mug that he offers her. “Careful, it’s hot,” Momota warns, but Akamatsu pays him no heed, taking a gulp of the scorching hot liquid and relishing the way it burns the top of her tongue, the roof of her mouth. “But yeah, I mean, it’s the writer who controls that shit, right? But, ‘Matsu, I mean,” he chuckles, lowering himself down to sit beside her on the couch, holding his own mug, “we don’t have to worry about that shit for another two years. I won’t be old enough to audition until Season 52.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Akamatsu breathes out. “That’s true.” And he’s gonna be aiming to get in, then, too. She presses her lips together a bit, but leans herself into Momota anyway. He’s much too warm and much too malleable to pass up the opportunity to lean against on a day like today. Expectedly, Momota shifts his arm and tucks it around her shoulders, bringing her closer. “And you’ll have to get in, so I can do Season 53.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhmm,” Momota closes his eyes as he tips back his hot chocolate into his mouth. Akamatsu averts her gaze from his throat. She knows he doesn’t like to… well, it doesn’t matter. Akamatsu gets it. There’s a reason she keeps her own blankets tucked snug around her neck, even if he’s the only one here. “There a reason why it’s on your mind?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akamatsu thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>there isn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s true, there’s not. The only reason she doesn’t say as much immediately is because it occurs to her, all of a sudden, that after Momota wins Season 52 of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s going to have to watch her die in Season 53. The thought is startling, strangely, even though it’s been something that she’s been sort of aware of in the back of her mind, ever since they talked about it just after they first moved in together. What they have here, in this shoddy apartment, it’s all temporary. They’re just biding their time until Momota strikes it rich (whether through </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa </span>
  </em>
  <span>or otherwise; god knows he never stops trying) and until Akamatsu… leaves this rotten planet behind, for good.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akamatsu won’t be sad about it. There’s nothing to be sad about. They’re both just selfish humans, anyway, clinging to each other in the wake of bigoted parents and disgusting, fake classmates. There isn’t a part of humanity that isn’t flawed, including the both of them. There’s nothing here to miss. Nothing here to mourn.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her hot chocolate is warm enough, though. “Dunno,” Akamatsu says, noncommittal, as she tips the rest of the hot cocoa into her mouth. It burns on the way down her throat. There’s something cathartic about the sensation. Her mug makes a dull clink when Momota puts it down for her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No coaster. Their coffee table doesn’t cost enough for either of them to be particularly fussed about cup rings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess I’m just thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akamatsu shrugs, and it’s only half a lie. “I wonder what the twist this season is going to be.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hope it’s something interesting,” Momota chuckles. Akamatsu finds a smile, for that. Momota knows how the show works, and he keeps up with the articles, mainly so that he can send them to Akamatsu. But he doesn’t watch it. He’s too squeamish to do so. “Getting bored of the regular old formula. Need somethin’ more original.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were infatuated with hope versus despair,” Akamatsu hums, more warmly than she would if she was less comfortable, closing her eyes and tilting her forehead into Momota’s shoulder. So what if it’s temporary? They’re here </span>
  <em>
    <span>now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and this is one nice moment that she can cherish, later, right up until they wipe her memories for the show. It’s not like she’s going to meet anyone else to care about, after Momota. Nobody else in the world would be sweet to her like this, gentle like this. They’re all so rotten.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(He is too. But Akamatsu doesn’t care, she wants him to be happy.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Glad to know you’re different,” Akamatsu mumbles, even as sleep crawls up her throat, in at the corners of her darkened vision. She hears Momota chuckle, and smiles again. He pulls those out of her more easy when she’s sleepy. “If you move and wake me up, you won’t live to hit the jackpot.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gotcha,” Momota is smiling, too. “Night, ‘Matsu.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Night, ‘Mota.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(And when Akamatsu has dozed off completely, Momota remains dutifully still, drinking his cocoa and counting tiles on the ceiling. He lied to her, just now. Multiple times. Little white lies. Strangely enough, those are the ones that Akamatsu hates the most, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danganronpa, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for example. Momota doesn’t know if he could actually kill someone. And he doesn’t think he could survive, either. That nasty show is more of a failsafe, really. If he hasn’t struck it rich by then, what’s the point?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...And about the milk, too, even though that one didn’t matter much. And it won’t make a difference in the long term, the extra two hundred yen he spent on that jug than he wouldn’t normally indulge if it were just him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was worth a little bit of a splurge, Momota thinks, to get the type that Akamatsu prefers. Might as well make her last three years here as good as possible, as much as he can.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>no thoughts head platonic momomatsu</p>
<p>i,</p>
<p>my pregame kaede is. she sure is someone, huh. i guess pregame kaito and kaede are roommates now. they kinda just handshake on getting kicked out from their parents' houses for probably-trans reasons and leave it like that</p>
<p>i have a whole thing planned out for pregame kaito's story! involving amamota! and also kaede and maki are girlfriends! if you wanna see more pregame content from me uhhh.... :eyes: let me know? i am Wary of starting a new multichapter right now given the shoddy status of my activity level as of late but also....... pregame amamota go brr know what i'm sayin</p>
<p>anyway they're best friends</p></blockquote></div></div>
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